Sandwiches, Sky-High Switchbacks, and Penthouse Paradoxes

The Highway 93 Pitstop: Unicorn Grab Bars in the Middle of Nowhere

On our route from Las Vegas to Great Basin National Park, we decided to break up the journey by stopping at Rose Memorial Park in Caliente, Nevada. Caliente is an old railroad town on Highway 93 that is comfortably situated in the absolute middle of nowhere. We pulled over to devour the gourmet sandwiches Leesa had lovingly packed for us and to test out the facilities. In a staggering twist of cosmic fate, the park’s public restroom was actually accessible, complete with functioning grab bars. I was shocked. Finding high-quality ADA compliance in a remote desert outpost felt like discovering a unicorn.

High Altitudes, Missing Cave Tours, and Ancient Pine Trees

Properly fueled, we pressed on to Great Basin National Park, located in the remote desert near the Utah border. We rolled up to the main Great Basin National Park Visitor Center around 4:00 PM, and Leesa immediately went inside to secure a park map so we’d have a vague idea of where we were going. Map in hand, we drove about five minutes further down the road and pulled into the Lehman Caves Visitor Center. While they technically offer accessible cave tours, our impeccable timing ensured we arrived far too late in the day to actually go underground.

Denied a subterranean adventure, we did the next logical thing: we drove the mountain-hugging Wheeler Peak Scenic Drive. This switchback road boldly defies gravity, and we seemingly just kept ascending into the heavens. We eventually passed a sign casually letting us know we had reached 10,000 feet of elevation. Up there, nestled near the peak, sits an ancient grove of bristlecone pine trees that have survived thousands of years—presumably because nobody can breathe enough oxygen up there to chop them down.

Eight Nights, Three Parks, and Zero Wheelchair-Flipping Mishaps

After staring at the high-altitude wilderness, we faced the final stretch of our journey, eventually rolling into the WorldMark Estancia in St. George, Utah, at a crisp 10:00 PM. We are officially checked in here for the next eight nights, with a daunting itinerary of three National Parks looming over us.

Our unit was grandly advertised as a “Penthouse Mobility” suite. In another classic display of hospitality logic, this majestic penthouse was located on the ground floor. The condo features three bedrooms, a large dining table, a comfortable living room, a nice patio area, and a washer and dryer—which we will inevitably use to wash out the Nevada dust.

The master bathroom came equipped with a soaking tub and a walk-in shower, but the toilet was tucked away in its own private room entirely devoid of safety bars. Thankfully, the second bathroom stepped up to the plate: it was fully accessible with grab bars by the toilet, multiple bars anchoring the tub, a handheld showerhead, and a roll-under sink.

Conquering the tub shower turned out to be a highly coordinated, two-person tactical maneuver. I deployed our trusty fold-up portable shower bench, positioning myself perfectly perpendicular to the tub. Leesa then swung my legs over the edge—and I am thrilled to report this happened without a single wheelchair-flipping mishap. Using the grab bars, I successfully hoisted myself in, and getting out was just as simple. No EMS required this time.

A Tale of Two WorldMarks: The Great Estancia Identity Crisis

Just to keep travelers on their toes, WorldMark operates two entirely separate resorts in St. George, located in the exact same neighborhood. You have the established WorldMark St. George, and then you have our temporary home, WorldMark Estancia. Evidently, the corporate overlords recently acquired Estancia and hastily slapped the WorldMark brand name onto the gate. Unfortunately, they forgot to bring the actual WorldMark quality standards along with the new sign.

If you find yourself booking a trip to this slice of the Utah desert, do yourself a huge favor and book the original WorldMark St. George instead. Our stay at the Estancia clone treated us to a relentless parade of “small issues.” None of them were catastrophic on their own, but when you added them all together, they created a mountain of annoyance. In fact, the sheer volume of petty defects we encountered here easily eclipsed the grand total of every single issue we have ever experienced across the entirety of our other WorldMark stays combined.

For starters, our kitchen came complete with a cooking pot that was entirely missing its lid. Because who doesn’t love a good kitchen mystery on vacation?

Then came the bathroom logistics. Seeking to fortify our unit’s safety, we requested two non-slip bathmats. Naturally, housekeeping delivered two standard bath floor towels. When we called back to gently clarify the difference between cotton fabric and rubberized traction, they corrected the mistake by sending exactly one solitary non-slip mat. Apparently, math is hard in the high desert.

The crown jewel of our customer service experience, however, happened when Leesa called the front desk to report the growing list of unit defects. Instead of offering assistance or a solutions-oriented approach, the employee on duty delivered an all-time classic defensive shield: “I only work the front desk.”

It’s comforting to know that while the corporate office is busy printing fresh WorldMark stationery for the lobby, the actual staff on the ground has embraced a strict policy of absolute powerlessness. It turns out that slapping a fresh coat of corporate branding on a newly acquired property doesn’t magically fix the underlying quirks.

Next up on our grand tour is Bryce Canyon National Park, the ultimate destination for anyone who has ever looked at a field of jagged, bright orange rock spikes and thought, “Yes, I’d like to navigate a wheelchair through that.”

Follow us on Bluesky, Facebook, and Instagram

• Bluesky
• Facebook
• Instagram